Hard to believe that one year plus one day has passed since we started this blog. This day last year we were at Dr A’s office, getting our hearts broken. This is what it looked like just before we met with him:
Yes, you are indeed “the shit”! And PS … I really did not like that red hoodie.
After that appointment Ben wrote a blog post. (Click here to read). I did not anticipate that one year later I would actually be wishing I could have that shitty day back again. How I wish I could.
This is what I wrote on that day. (click here) I had big dreams of going to Greece with Ben. Or Iceland. Deep down I knew that was not to be. I wish I had been wrong.
Still, time marches on and not everything is constantly doom and gloom. There are a few bright moments each day, and recently one of them was Jaime’s 17th birthday. I was worried about it as it approached, because it was her first birthday without her beloved Daddy, but her pain was eased a bit with the purchase of a car. My pain was eased a bit as I revelled in her joy and her hugs. It was a slightly bittersweet moment, as Ben and I were never the parents who intended on purchasing vehicles for our kids, but times have changed and without Ben to help chauffeur it has become a necessity.
We celebrated Jaime’s 17th birthday with a great family dinner at Mom and Dad’s with all the kids along with Auntie Nancy and Jeremy.
So you see, there are some good times.
The other day I received an unexpected and random email from a woman I have never met. She lost her soul mate in an accident last year, and she wanted to let me know I’m not alone. Thank you, Kathy. I was so moved that you took the time to contact me. You are not alone on this path either, and I now think about you constantly. I am deeply sorry for your loss.
Another bright moment in my life right now is seeing all our ugly flooring ripped out and replaced with hardwood. It is a pain in the butt living in this mess …
… but hopefully the end result will be worth it.
The floors are my replacement for Ben’s pick up truck. I’m not so sure that Ben would think it is a reasonable trade, but since he’s not here to argue the point it appears I win. He would have loved the floors, but if a choice had to be made between the two (which it did at the time) I do have to admit he would have chosen the truck.
I miss Ben every minute. I feel stranded right now so I try not to constantly submit to the agony of the memories of the last year because they are too painful. If you remotely think that you have an idea of what we all went through, you don’t. That statement sounds a bit bitchy and it’s not intended that way, but rather I just mean that even though many of you saw first hand what he and we endured, you still don’t know. It was intolerable. Unbearable. Absolutely horrific. Worse than the worst thing I have ever seen or handled in 23 years of policing. Inhumane.
So I try to keep the memories locked in a compartment right now and just let them out to breathe in brief moments. At times I feel horrible when I lock them away and spend time laughing, but if I didn’t I think I would just die.
When I want to have a moment with him, I play a song and allow myself to surrender to the sadness until the music ends. Today was a double header.
I miss you Ben. You are wildly loved and never, ever forgotten.